Title: The House
Author: Jo Michaels
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Editor: Tia Silverthorne Bach with INDIE Books Gone Wild
Publication Date: June 4th, 2018
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR
Hi, I'm Jo. Let's forget all the "Jo Michaels is blah, blah, blah" stuff and just go with it. I'm a voracious reader (often reading more than one book at a time), a writer, a book reviewer, a mom, a wife, and one of the EICs at INDIE Books Gone Wild. I have an almost photographic memory and tend to make people cringe at the number of details I can recall about them and/or their book(s). My imagination follows me around like a conjoined twin and causes me to space out pretty often or laugh out loud randomly in completely inappropriate situations.
I have a degree in graphic design, and my journey to the end was one few students who begin that program ever complete. However, this was one case where my memory and OCD tendencies helped me. Graduation was one of the most amazing days of my life. But, my most amazing day was when my now husband proposed. Every little girl dreams of being Cinderella someday, and he pulled off the proposal of fantasies.
At the risk of sounding cliché, I'm going to let it out there and say how much I absolutely adore the man I'm married to. Along with my children, he's my whole world.
I've lived in Louisiana, Tennessee, and Georgia, but I've had my feet in almost every state. Traveling is something I adore, and have plans to someday see the Mongolia I've written about in Yassa.
One of my favorite things is hearing from fans! You can find me on social media most any day of the week. Connect! I'd love to hear from you.
The House: https://amzn.to/2Li8gYp
Story 2 – Marna, Fred, and Kimberly McDade
Kimberly was three when the McDades moved in, and they painted her room a soft pink, hanging lacy curtains over the windows and giving her a huge, low canopy bed that was covered in delicate gauze. Her dresser and mirror were white, and she had three boxes of porcelain dolls that looked way too expensive for a child below age ten.
One of the dolls looked like a mirror image of Kimberly. Long, blonde hair; rosy cheeks; and even a matching gingham dress. I was entranced with her right away. She spoke well for being only three, and she could communicate nearly anything with her parents, Marna and Fred, who cooed and fussed over their precious daughter every chance they got.
Fred was tall and gangly, with long limbs and thick glasses, but Marna was rounder with a softer face and short, dark hair that complimented her blue eyes wonderfully. When they came to paint the walls, she was the one who chose the colors. That wonderful pink for Kimberly’s room and light blue for Marna and Fred’s.
There was warmth unrelated to anger moving through me for the first time, and I wanted nothing more than to embrace the family, pulling them into love, protecting them forever from the outside world and men like The Butcher, or young boys like Claude. I didn’t want to think about what might happen if he ever decided to return to me and pay my new owners a visit.
Marna and Fred were such a beautiful thing to behold. They orbited around one another and their child any time they were all at home together. It was as if the couple knew where the other one was, and they were drawn together by some unseen gravitational force.
I was content.